


Two Tangled Ties on the Floor

by Charliesmusings



Series: Arcadia Oaks Senior Prom [2]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27032362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charliesmusings/pseuds/Charliesmusings
Summary: Senior Prom really does change the air around people... Sometimes you can have a conversation you didn't think you'd have. A.K.A. Krel and Seamus, two years post the events of 3Below (I've been imagining they were sophomores in-series), admit that maybe they could have been friends. And, maybe they realize that it's still not too late to try...
Relationships: Seamus Johnson & Krel Tarron, Seamus Johnson/Krel Tarron
Series: Arcadia Oaks Senior Prom [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972870
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	Two Tangled Ties on the Floor

Seamus Johnson was in a proper black tuxedo, blond hair gelled, and was walking arm in arm with the girl Krel had sat behind in his history class this year. He looked as smug as ever on the outside, as he walked up to Logan, slapped him a cocky high-five, and introduced himself to Logan's date, a person from a different school, outside their district. 

Seamus looked as smug as ever on the outside, as he joined the throng of people on the dance floor. But Krel had been observing the other boy for a touch over a year by now-- he’d been trying to get a read on him since as far back as their duel in Janeth’s class--and knew better. 

He knew that Seamus was itchy in the tuxedo-- there was a twitch in his wrist-- and he knew that Seamus would never wear his hair like that. It looked like his father's. He knew that Seamus had hesitated when he'd asked the girl to prom. He hadn't even made it a spectacle, like the couples did. Krel had also overheard Seamus mumble to the girl that they could go as friends, if that made it better. She'd picked 'as friends', and Krel knew that Seamus's face had burst into a relieved, thankful smile. He'd watched it. 

He'd watched it all. 

He'd noticed Seamus's drooping eyes, and sometimes even closed ones, in class, and he'd noticed the way the boy regretted waking up, when his sleep was interrupted. How he moved sluggishly sometimes, because he was shaking away the desperate grasp of respite, and how the shadows under his eyes often seemed darker after, than before he'd gone to sleep. 

He'd also noticed Seamus's brilliance, when he was awake. Aside from the up-close demonstration two years ago, he'd also seen it in the way Seamus's hand shot up when he knew the answer to something, overeager for a moment, before calming, and stilling its slight waving in the air. Krel didn't like when he stopped waving his hand to be called on. If he was excited, why not make that clear? 

But, he supposed it wasn't for him to decide what Seamus did and didn't make public. He knew firsthand what it was like to keep a secret. If Seamus sought to keep his passion for the class material hidden, then Krel wouldn't say anything.

Krel wouldn't do a lot of things that Seamus wouldn't want him to do, if Seamus only gave him the chance to demonstrate that. 

It wasn't that Krel wanted to carry Seamus's burdens for him; it was just that, he wanted to be there for him, to help him through the stress he was so clearly going through. He could understand how it felt, to be stuck under a parent's shadow, stuck under their wing, expected to comply. His father was nothing like Seamus's, but weren't Krel's and Seamus's own experiences far too similar? 

Just as Krel was expected to be literal royalty, Seamus was meant to be king of all that he did. Seamus had to be the valedictorian, Seamus had to have the most friends-- oh, but only the best ones were considered 'friend' in something other than by name alone. 

Seamus had to be everything he lost sleep over at night. 

Seamus had to be everything he lost sleep over at night, when all he could do was hold on tightly as his mind raced through all of the responsibilities shucked onto him, as if he was watching a rollercoaster from way too close up, with the volume of the world turned up way too high. 

Seamus Johnson was supposed to be a king, in ability. Krel was supposed to be a king, in responsibility. Krel was a genius, and Seamus was...

Seamus Johnson saw himself as a walking tragedy. And didn't that just taste bitter? 

It was almost as acrid a taste in Seamus’s mouth as the one he got when he heard the shit his dad spewed on a daily. Seamus had been a fool to ever listen to it. 

He had, in the early days of his high school career. He'd even listened to it well into Krel's first year at Arcadia Oaks High. He'd hated Krel for usurping him; he'd looked at him as the Mordred to his Arthur-- a cruel punisher, and for what? Being smart? 

In truth, what his dad hated about Krel had never bothered Seamus. He hadn't even considered those factors, when he'd declared the boy his enemy. But when his dad had spouted hateful shit, Seamus hadn't stopped him. It had-- and Seamus wished he could scream at that version of himself for even thinking this to  _ stop! Stop listening to him! _ \-- felt like vindication to hear someone say something shitty about the thorn in his side in Janeth's math class. 

But that wasn't right. And it had never been right. He felt despicable for ever allowing himself to tolerate that from his own father. 

Because it wasn't right to assume that Krel wasn't a genius, just because of where he was from.

Seamus knew Krel was a genius, because he'd seen it in his eyes. He'd seen the way the boy would shoot his hand up like a rocket, and wave it desperately, wanting so badly to say the thing that he wanted to say, because he already knew it was right, and wanted to share it with the world. He'd seen it in the way Krel would sometimes go too far in Janeth's class, filling the chalkboard with Akiridion mathematics, chattering away as if it were the easiest concept in the world. The weird part is that Krel wasn't condescending about it, unless someone was rude first. He'd assumed that the new genius whiz kid would reflect back what he himself put on like a costume every day-- confidence.  _ Over _ confidence. But Krel Tarron was confident in a way that didn't hurt others. He knew his ability, and wasn't shy about it, but never once did he make anyone feel small or slow for not getting it, once he was aware that they'd never been taught the thing he knew in the first place. It was like he understood, actually understood, that everyone's education was different. He never belittled anyone who didn't deserve it, for not having the chance to learn something he had. Which, in a way, was revolutionary, for a prince. Royals weren't supposed to feel for the people lower than them. Seamus had learned that from his own father. Keep his chin high because he was of a different breed, he'd said. Seamus wasn't so sure. He wasn't even sure he'd ever been sure of that.

All he knew was that it was wrong to think like that, and he’d taken too long to admit that to himself. 

He also knew that he'd been trying to make up for the time that he'd allowed himself to feel that way. An apology without action could only do so much before it was hollow and not worthy of deliverance to the hurt party at all. 

On the one bright side of all this: Seamus was good at learning. He absorbed information, kept it stored away, logged it for future use. Reading on the issues he'd so sorely needed education in had not been easy emotionally, but, mentally, he'd grasped the concepts quickly. And noticed that it sort of mostly boiled down to: don't treat others like crap.

A surprisingly universal lesson-- he’d take that to college sooner than he’d take anything his dad had ever said.

From there, however, he'd been taking a much more active stance on certain things. Volunteering where he could, protesting when necessary, donating to causes, signing petitions, and even watching for chances where he could call out things as he saw them. The unfortunate part was that he'd had to do it all in secret-- which wasn't the bad part; he wasn't doing it for attention-- and pretend that he was still his father's boy-- that was the part that stung. 

At school, it was easier to act like less of a jerk, and to make up for his bullying where he could, because his dad wouldn’t see. At home, he had to keep his head down, and just nod along, even though every nod he gave felt like a betrayal of his classmates. Of Krel Tarron. 

One day, he'd stand up to the man, he decided. It was just… he was only one kid. His father barely listened to qualified authority, much less a child, even if the child was his own. 

But, like everyone that night, while painful thoughts passed into his head, they also passed right back out. Tonight wasn't for hurt and pain. That could come later, when it could be dealt with and worked through properly. 

Tonight, instead, was for celebration of the progress that they had made. They were seniors. They were almost done with school. Many of those who hadn't already had their birthdays were so near to adulthood that they could taste it-- though, they saw themselves as even more grown up than that, just the way that everyone on the cusp of eighteen believes the age to be older than it is. They were so impossibly young, even as they exited their childhood like changing autumn leaves-- not all at once, but just fast enough that someone wouldn’t notice, until it was October, and- oh. The trees looked stunningly like fire. 

Oh. The children were not children any longer. 

Seamus visibly-- to Krel, at least-- untensed, as he laughed with his friends and their dates, attempting to dance with some semblance of non-awkwardness, and seemed to drop the stupid, haughty mask he wore whenever he thought someone expected something of him. 

He stayed that way for just a moment. And then he broke off from the group. Made his way to the boys' locker room-- the only bathrooms in the gym, where this year’s prom was being held. (As if it were held anywhere else).

Krel wasn't sure what compelled him, but something tugged at his feet, and he walked without really thinking about what he was doing. 

When he entered the locker rooms, he heard a few other boys milling about by the restrooms. Shuffling, some chatter, laughter. He approached slowly, still trying to figure out what he was doing there. Why he'd followed Seamus. 

The boy in question was standing in front of one of the mirrors, carefully running his hands under the tap, and then through his hair. 

Krel grinned. He couldn't resist commenting, as he folded his hands over his chest and leaned against the sink next to the blond’s. "Hair gel not your ‘thing’?" 

Seamus looked startled, as if he hadn't expected anyone to talk to him, despite the social nature of both his reputation and the restroom itself, on a night like this, where, for once, everyone got along with everyone, because something in the air felt different.

And something in the air certainly did feel different, especially as a large group of boys exited the locker room together, leaving Krel and Seamus standing in front of each other, quiet. 

And then Seamus seemed to unfurl from his surprise, as a slow grin, matching Krel's, crept over his features. "Not quite. Bad move on my part, huh?" 

Krel saw through that, but he didn't comment. "Well, better to fix it late than never, right?"

Seamus laughed, an easy, gentle laugh, "Yeah." 

His 'yeah' hung in the still air between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. At least, not for Krel. He was used to simply observing Seamus, noticing things but saying nothing. Silence was not alarming for him.

It was the observed who finally spoke up again, as he asked, "So, enjoying the night so far?"

Krel blinked, but his posture remained lax and loose. He nodded, "Yes. My sister is back for a few days, and it has been nice to see her again. Thank you for asking." He said formally, before returning the question. 

Seamus nodded, though it looked forced. "Yeah, man. Senior prom. Of course it rocks." He said, aiming for 'not bitter'. He’d made a rather good attempt. But not quite good enough to fool Krel.

Krel, who gave Seamus a disbelieving look this time, finally calling him on one of his bluffs. Wordlessly, but, still calling him on it. 

It didn't go unnoticed by Seamus. He frowned. "What? It's true. Senior prom is, like, the best night ever!" He did not succeed in making that sound not-sarcastic. And he heard it, himself. He knew it wasn't convincing. He sighed, "Okay, you got me. ...I'm not much a suit guy." 

_ Deflection _ , Krel thought. 

"Right. Are you also not much a truth guy?" Krel hadn't meant to snap, but he was getting fed up with how much Seamus pretended to be, and not be. Even he could tell that Seamus wasn't okay, and Krel had struggled for a long time with understanding the sheer volume that was the absurdly vast range of human emotions. 

He didn't know why it bothered him so much, though, someone else being upset, much less Seamus, someone who’d declared himself Krel’s rival until last year. Maybe it was that, on a happy night, Seamus was trying too hard to fit in, when he clearly didn't feel up to celebrating. Or maybe it was something else, something Krel had yet to put a finger on. 

Either way, it did bother him. Seamus's lying was bothering him. And, it was probably bothering Seamus, too, Krel thought.

Seamus bristled for a moment, at Krel’s snap, glaring right back at the other boy. 

But then he seemed to rethink his reaction, stop it, question it, and adjust it. He deflated. "...Look. I'm fine, okay? It's none of your business." He didn't even sound that angry. Just, sad. 

Krel looked Seamus dead in the eyes. He stood up properly, straightened his shoulders, and looked at him square on. The posture of a king. But, with the eyes of a friend. He regarded Seamus for a moment, who looked pinned under the gaze, as if he hadn't expected Krel to react so strongly. And then Krel simply smiled, a smile like he knew something that Seamus didn't-- and, oddly, it didn't bother Seamus at all to see-- and said, "It could be. If you'd let it." 

Comedic record scratch. Except, it didn’t feel like a comedic moment to Seamus.

He blinked, shellshocked for a moment. "Seriously?" was all his mouth and mind said. 

Krel snorted, "Yes. 'Seriously'" he teased gently. "I always thought we could be good friends, if things had been... just a little to the left of what actually happened." 

Seamus went quiet, closing off at the mention of himself back then. It wasn’t that long ago, but it also felt like ages had passed since then; either way, he hadn’t liked that version of himself, and it still sometimes stung to think of it. But self-pity hadn’t helped him make progress in his change. He tried to shake it away.

Finally, he mumbled "...We could have been, couldn't we have?" 

"No reason we can't start now."

"We're about to graduate…" Seamus hesitated. 

Krel held out a hand. "We'll worry about that when we get there. For now…” he took a leap. “Dance with me?" 

Seamus was surprised quiet again, and he stared at the hand offered him, not moving. The bathroom was quiet. They were still alone. 

And then the blond raised an eyebrow, and grinned, taking his classmate's outstretched hand, saying, "'S a little more than friendly, there, pal."

Krel laughed, unbothered. "Perhaps. But you have a date, and we still hardly know each other." 

"...That could change." 

"Which one?" 

"Both." Seamus blurted, before he realized how that sounded. "I mean- I would never abandon her, it's just…" he hesitated. "She's not really my date. She's a friend. And, I think she has an eye on a girl from our class..." 

Krel had known that, but hearing it again reassured something in his chest, for a reason which he knew but didn't put words to, because that was petty, and he was anything but. ( _ Liar _ , he could hear Aja saying).

"Well, if you would like an actual date to the prom, then, ah. I came alone." Krel shrugged. "Or, not alone alone; I came with my friends. But, I don’t have a date… unless you’re interested.”

Seamus shook off his father's voice in the back of his own head. "Really?" 

Krel smiled a knowing grin again, and oh, okay, Seamus not only wasn't bothered by that smile, but it kind of… did something to his heart. Made it go really fast. The akiridon spoke again, and Seamus almost missed it, "Ask me." 

Seamus wasn't sure what he meant at first, but his mind caught up when he finally regained some of his focus. He nodded, and opened his mouth to speak, before freezing, an idea coming to him. 

"Wait here!" He said, a little too loudly, and then ran from the locker room. 

Krel, for a scary moment, wondered if he'd gone too far. He hadn't expected Seamus to bolt like that. He'd been pretty sure that he'd been getting positive reactions to what he was saying just then. He wondered if or where he'd gone wrong…

But, Seamus had said to wait. Maybe he remembered something he forgot. Maybe he was checking with the girl he'd come with. Maybe he was doing anything other than running away. Krel had to believe he was doing anything other than running away. 

The Akiridon sighed softly, shaking his head, as he leaned back against the sinks, crossing his arms over his chest. He closed his eyes, and as annoyed as he wanted to be, he wasn't. A fond smile had overcome his face, instead. Seamus really needed to work on tact.

He stayed there for a few minutes, breathing calmly, stilling his anxious core. Waiting for Seamus. 

He didn't have to wait too long, though, as suddenly Seamus appeared back in the locker room, holding something. It was a plate, with a napkin over it. Krel looked at the human, mystified, but then Seamus offered the plate with two hands, grinning like a fool, and who was Krel to refuse it, when he was smiling like that?

He took the plate slowly, and then just held it for a moment, uncertain. Seamus glanced at the napkin. "Move the-" he paused, and shook his head. "Nevermind. Here-" he reached over, and with a slightly nervous jerk, pulled the napkin off the plate himself. 

Beneath it, had been a cupcake, sitting innocuously in the center of the plate. Seamus had clearly nabbed from the snack bar outside. It had a little plastic decoration on top, nestled in the frosting, that read "Prom!". It hadn't been very creative, but the school had used most of the prom budget on the DJ-- who Krel thought was okay, personally, but could use some work on his beat drops-- so at least it was topical. 

Actually, upon further inspection, though, Krel realized that the plastic decoration had been tampered with. 

The exclamation point had been scribbled out and turned into a question mark. 

"Oh." Krel said. 

And then he felt laughter bubble up from his chest,, and over, spilling out. "Oh my kleb-" he managed to choke out between laughs, "That's-" he broke off again, "That's amazing!" He couldn't stop laughing. 

Seamus was used to thinking that, when people laughed over something he did, they were being cruel. The thought didn't even cross his mind, when Krel laughed, here, now. Instead, Seamus laughed, too. 

They laughed together, and laughed, and any tension that they'd created at all was completely destroyed. When they finally gained their breath again, it stayed shattered. 

"Yes." Krel said, wiping a laughter tear from his eye. "I will go to prom with you. We have to match, though." He joked. 

Seamus glanced down at his own black tie, and then at Krel's Akiridion blue one, and shrugged, before pulling his off and tossing it to the floor. "Whoops. I couldn't find the perfect tie, and I can only get the best for you, so I'll attend without one." He said facetiously, happy to be rid of the thing.

Krel glanced at him appraisingly, smiling like a fool, before reaching over and unbuttoning Seamus’s collar button. "There. Now you do not look like a dweeb." He teased. 

Before Seamus could respond, however, Krel then removed his own tie, and undid his own collar, saying, "Also, it's such a shame we couldn’t find ties to match. Ah, well. We will make do without them. Now, to the party!" He cheered, as he grabbed Seamus's hand and dragged him out of the locker room, the pair of them leaving two ties, one sleek black, and one crystal blue, tangled together on the floor. 


End file.
